His Savior
by enoughofsillylovesongs
Summary: He is a normal guy, but he is also a famous singer. There are many people who don't like him. He's in need of a savior.


**Well hello there beautiful people, here I am with a new story that I have hard feelings for it, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I like writting it.**

 **At first you'll think it's CC but no, it's a Klaine story, you have to read a few lines so you can understand.**

 **Ps, thank you to my beautiful beta.**

 **ps2, I don't own glee.**

 **Enjoy and please please tell me what you think.**

 **Bye! xoxox**

 **Chapter 1**

"Darren, Darren, Darren!" shouted the crowd that had gathered at the stadium to see him. It was great. It was incredibly awesome.

The bodyguards surrounded him and carried his small body through the effusive fans, who were waiting touch him, waiting for an autograph, a photo, or even a kiss. But he only wanted to get to the pitch black car, which was waiting on the other side of the crowd, that'd take him to the hotel where he was staying.

He was so tired.

It had been a long, hard tour and they were only halfway. He left his heeled shoes on the floor of the car and crouched on the seat. He grabbed some water from the minibar. Only a few sips, and he would slowly be able to dream.

Moments later, he woke up and it was all dark – he panicked. He did not know where he was, he only knew he had an aching head. He tried to move, in a failed attempt to calm his aching muscles. He tried to turn in order to see if he could recognize the place. He noticed the noise coming from the ceiling fan, and then air moving so close that he could feel it on his skin.

He was almost naked.

And tied to a huge bed. He tried to scream but a little muffled groan was all that he could get out of his throat. His throat was dry. And then he saw him. A human figure dressed in black, right next to his bed. _Lurking in the shadows. Moving slowly in the darkness._ He crouched beside him and put his hand to his face. He moaned, scared, trying to get away, but a hand on his neck held him, forcing water down his throat.

And the terrifying darkness was back once again.

* * *

" _Let me get out of here"_

" _I want to die"_

" _I don't want to suffer anymore"_

" _How long has it been? Two days, three, a week?"_

He tried to move his hands, but it was useless. It was stiff and trying to move would only increase the pain. The strings scraped the wrists and ankles that felt raw. It was so dark... he hadn't seen the sunlight since he got there. And it was all too vague and fuzzy. He whimpered, trying to remember how he had even gotten to that horrible place.

Not too long ago, he was one of the most famous singers in the country, and he was expanding his brand worldwide. He lost everything now. They, whoever they were, had stolen his life, his hope for tomorrow. He just wanted to die. He wanted the pain to end. His eyes teared up, but he didn't cry. He was too tired to do so.

After a few seconds, the door of his living hell finally opened, but giving way to the familiar dark figure. He watched him and something happened – something that had never happened before. He spoke. A cold, distant voice. It gave him chills.

"Glad to see you're calmer, dear". Whispered the man sitting beside his bed.

He couldn't see his eyes but he was sure the man was watching him. He would have shuddered with fear, but at that time he was insensitive to everything. A hand reached out to him and stroked his hair.

"Don't worry dear, it's almost the end... Then, you will be mine", said the man running a cold finger on his chest, "You will be the best of my creations"

He shifted uneasily, trying to get away from him, which made the pressure on his chest stronger and tougher. He felt disgusted with himself. And he felt the darkness again.

* * *

His entire body was aching. As always, he was afraid to open his eyes, but it wasn't like all the other times he'd awakened earlier. This time, it was different. He was surrounded by light. Despite having his eyes closed, he noticed the light around him. And it wasn't so cold, the cold that froze his bones, but a pleasant warmth enveloping his body.

Was he dead? Could this be heaven?

He shifted uneasily in his bed and then appreciated the second difference. He _wasn't tied_. He was _dressed_. He opened his eyes suddenly, sitting up and looking around.

"Blaine", said a familiar voice.

He turned his head looking for the source of that sound and then he saw her. Her red hair fell on her shoulders. Her sweet eyes. And that smile.

"Emma", he lightly moaned, as his eyes flooded.

Blaine quickly became involved in Emma's arms. She cradled him lovingly, and began to cry. The door opened, though neither noticed that. A man with curly hair was looking at them, trying to hide the fact that he was saddened and yet disturbed because of what had occurred.

"Blaine... I'm sorry..." he whispered.

Blaine looked up, looking for the man. A sad smile appeared on his face when he saw his haunted look.

"It wasn't your fault, Will", Blaine said, holding out his hand. He felt better after crying on the shoulders of his best friend.

"I should have expected something like that…" Will said stubbornly, taking his friend's hand between his.

"You know you're not omnipotent, Will..."

"But it _is_ my work... and I can't even do it properly" Will said.

A heavy silence fell between the three.

Blaine leaned back in his bed. He was calmer now. He looked around with his hazel eyes. He was undoubtedly in a hospital, and so many questions flooded his thoughts but at that time, he wasn't able to get any questions out of his head. A nurse came in and approached his arm, injecting something. He was asleep moments later.

Emma and Will Schuester left the room, closing the door behind them, while two security guards greeted them. Will was reluctant to leave, but Emma, his wife, took his hand dragging him down the hall. He also needed to rest. He had barely slept during this long, exhausting week that Blaine had spent in the hands of a crazy fan. But the worst was yet to come. Special police forces were unable to hold whoever it was that did this. And they were still out there, free, lurking in the dark.

Emma sighed to herself; reminding herself of what Blaine could've gotten through hurt her so much. At first she had come to work for him as a stylist and personal assistant, but with time, Emma and Blaine had become very close. They were like brother and sister. Will was his producer and manager and also the one who always organized Blaine's security – making sure he was safe at all times. He had also become a father for Blaine.

Emma transformed Blaine Anderson, a simple boy, who just cared about gelling his hair... in Darren, a sophisticated, elegant, sexy, and charming young man. And after a few dance classes, leather and eyeliner, _a new star was born._

Blaine had succeeded with his first album, " _New Morning_ ". Although the results were not as good as expected, " _This time_ ", his second album, he greeted the expectations, but it still wasn't enough. So, " _Not Alone",_ the third album, was crazy and of course the most successful. He had plunged into a crazy tour across the country.

At only twenty-two, Darren, if not an acclaimed artist already, was on his way to be. Thousands of fans buy his albums, going to his concerts, his lyrics became known, and they knew his life. They were fascinated by his voice. There was something about him that kept them so obsessed. It was the mixture of simplicity and charisma, but above all, the fact that he knew how to drag masses.

He knew that fame was double-edged. During all those years, he had used his fame to fight and defend cause. Few people knew that he had been an orphan at an early age, until Pam Anderson adopted him and gave him a home.

And now, unfortunately, he had gotten to know the worst edge of fame in the most horrible way. He, who had always been so very careful about his privacy. He does not want anyone to mix his public life and private life. When he sang, he was _Darren_ , but when he got off stage he was _Blaine Anderson_ , an ordinary boy. But now, someone had broken this delicate balance.

"What are you thinking?" asked Emma in a sweet tone while Will took her hand above the table in the hospital's cafeteria.

"We have to get him to safety. I'll cancel his concerts... he must rest, he needs a place to be quiet and safe... a place where he won't be found."

"And does that place even exist, Will? Because that would be perfect for Blaine"

"Of course, and he can't refuse... after all, it is as much mine as it is his..."

"You're not thinking of taking him to Eudamon, are you?"

"And why not?" Will replied, "That house, like the island, is a stronghold. He will be surrounded by women and men capable and Juliet can take care of him"

"Capable and dangerous, Will. Also you know he won't take it well"

"I'm the owner of that place, along with him. I can take whoever I want there"

"And do you think Blaine will want to go?"

"We have to convince him. It's a lot safer there, Emma, and you know that."

Emma was silent. It was not a bad idea due to the characteristics of the island. But she didn't trust the host that much. He was Will's cousin and they simply didn't get along. In fact, they haven't seen each other for years, even though the island, along with everything in it, belonged to both of them.

He wasn't an ordinary man, and she doubted that that was what Blaine needed in order recover, and relax. But she didn't say anything. Where would Blaine be safer than in that island, a little paradise for living humans, surrounded by tough men and women?


End file.
